


Walking a Tighrope

by loki_of_jotunheim



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Gen, Nightshade Spoilers, assassin!Alex, but still, minor nightshade spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-11
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28004247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loki_of_jotunheim/pseuds/loki_of_jotunheim
Summary: An unexpected reunion sets Alex and Yassen down a path neither expected to occur. Alex walks the line of no return. Yassen walks the thin line between allowing choice and sparing pain.(Nightshade spoilers at the end. Very little information/spoiling, but if you're avoiding spoilers, I'd recommend you wait till you've read Nightshade.)
Relationships: Yassen Gregorovich & Alex Rider
Comments: 4
Kudos: 38





	Walking a Tighrope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sirius4Life](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sirius4Life/gifts).



> The original prompt: When Alex tells Yassen about the sniper shooting at him at Brookland, Yassen decides to hunt down the sniper expecting it to be some Scorpia assassin. Only to find out that it was an MI6 agent and Scorpia wasn’t behind it. (By Sirius4Life)
> 
> This was intended to be just a fill of that. It ended up...not being just that. It fills it, but also...no. Sorry about that! I reread The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea by Pongnosis while writing this, ended up starting a whole new thing on that, and I finished this today taking a break from the other thing. Devil is just...fucking amazing. (The ending for this is absolutely influenced by Devil, I will freely admit. The characterization and stuff are also most likely influenced by Devil.) (I can actually pinpoint the scene I started rereading.)
> 
> Oh, right yeah forgot about the Russian! I did my best, but I'm still nowhere near fluent and I just hope the choice in wording makes sense and is readable. Also, I didn't intend for this to be so long but...it just....happened. *sigh*

Alex was too focused on his single-minded goal of going after Julius to notice the figure following behind, illuminated briefly as the lightning split the spy and thunder overwhelmed every other sound. As Alex dashed between cars, the occupants inside shrinking back against the cold determination on the young boy’s face, the figure followed silently. 

Julius wouldn’t know that his getaway was already gone, and the figure was in no hurry to inform him. This was between Alex and Julius and the man following had no intention of interfering - unless Alex would come to more harm to not do so. 

Then he would step in if need be. 

Alex finally had caught up to the other boy and stood over him. The stranger stood just out of sight, watching the silhouettes move without sound. Alex turned to leave, but twisted back as Julius went for his own weapon.

The figure didn’t flinch when the gunshot sounded, but something changed in his demeanor. Anyone who might have been watching couldn’t say exactly what had shifted, but they would all agree that it had. 

Alex didn’t notice the figure following him back to the gate, nor did any of the guards or agents waiting. The man chose this moment to slip away - he would have been no help, and there would be another opportunity to talk to Alex. He knew Alex well enough to know Julius wasn’t the end of it. 

Lewinsky didn’t notice the figure in the desert below either - the jeep could have belonged to anyone, and the attire was the usual clothing for the occupants of the area. The focus was on the fort - and not getting shot down by the defense systems - not a jeep that could have been headed elsewhere. 

Lewinsky watched the kid slide into the role of Julius Grief as if it was as easy as breathing, and wondered if he would ever sleep well again. He was pulled out of his thoughts as an explosion sounded and chaos erupted. He didn’t have time to dwell on the situation or the teenager involved as there was an assault to mount. 

Lweinsky still didn’t notice the man following, catlike, behind them - or that the man silently eliminated targets that were milliseconds away from killing one of their own. 

The same focus and intensity the watcher had seen in the streets of Cario were engraved on Alex’s face now. He wasn’t surprised. 

The team of the Egyptian and American forces didn’t require his help but he gave it anyways. It sped up reaching Alex and that was his goal. The team rounded the corner just as Razim took aim and Blake Lewinsky fired first. Razim and Alex both fell, and on instinct, the man shot the soldier above seconds away from killing Lewinsky. 

The stranger turned his attention back to the bridge. Alex was dangling from it’s remnants and Razim had fallen into the salt below. Minutes later, Alex was being pulled to safety and the stranger watched from the shadows. 

Alex didn’t realize he was being followed when he slipped away. The man quietly stood in the shadows as Alex knelt, a broken being. 

There wasn’t time to reveal his presence - not without hurting Alex further, and it felt disrespectful, and so the man slipped away just as the soldiers found Alex. There would be time later. 

Yassen was sure of it. 

The process of moving was a welcome relief and distraction from the absence of Jack in the house in Chelsea. Alex was moving in with the Pleasures, and there wasn’t as much of a sense of relief as there should have been. 

He was free from MI6. That should have been enough. 

It wasn’t much of a trade for Jack’s life. 

Alex forced his mind off of that day and resumed packing with slightly more intensity than he had before. He had to finish this. That was what was important right now. 

“Hello, Alex.” 

Alex spun around at the sound of a dead man’s voice and stared, shocked, at the face of Yassen Gregorovich, who was quietly sitting across from him in one of the chairs in the living room. 

_ Not the one Jack or Ian ever sat in,  _ Alex’s mind noted, and he filed it away for later. 

“You’re dead.” Alex finally said. This was the most he’d felt in weeks. He was shamefully grateful for the change. 

“It seemed so at the time.” The man agreed. 

“Did you know my father was a double agent?” Alex finally asked quietly. Yassen stilled - Alex didn’t know it was possible for him to be more still than he already was. 

“No.” Yassen answered at last, leaning back into the chair. “I would not have sent you to Scorpia if I had known.” 

“Why?” Alex asked, but he knew. “Because they would have always distrusted me.” 

“Yes.” Yassen answered. “And your father would not have wanted you there. I didn’t realize…”  
“You thought MI6 had killed them.” Alex reminded him, the man’s words on Air Force One echoing. “What are you doing here?” 

“Keeping an eye on you.” Yassen answered. “I saw what happened in Cairo.”   
“You were there?” Alex asked, shocked. He tried to remember seeing the man - surely he would have noticed - but he came up short. 

“I arrived just after I learned of Julius’s presence and Scorpia’s involvement in Cairo at the Assembly hall.” Yassen confirmed. 

“You weren’t working for them?” Alex was surprised. 

“As far as I am aware they still believe me to be dead.” Yassen shrugged lightly. “They weren’t very good employers anymore anyways.” 

“They do seem to up the recklessness in who they let hire them every time.” Alex agreed. After a moment, he spoke abruptly. “Razim killed Jack.” 

Yassen nodded and could almost have been sympathetic - was sympathetic, when Alex examined him more closely. “I’m sorry to hear that.” 

“Thanks.” Alex said quietly after a moment. “I don’t know what to do from here.” He admitted. “I’m moving to America, but - “ 

“But?” Yassen didn’t rush Alex. 

“It’s always going to be wrong, isn’t it?” Alex stared at the wall, but not really seeing it. “There’s no going back to before.” 

“Killing does change one fairly permanently.” Yassen said softy. Alex glanced over at Yassen, meeting the other’s regretful gaze. Silence, but not an uncomfortable silence, fell for a few moments. 

“What other options are there?” Alex finally asked. “Going back to school - every time it’s gotten harder. Sometimes, there’s times I enjoyed it - before all this happened, I was thinking about college. Oxford, or Cambridge, maybe. But other times, it’s felt like I’m trapped.” 

“And now?” Yassen asked. 

“I don’t know.” Alex admitted. Yassen was silent, examining him for a moment. 

“Do you wish to be involved with spies?” Yassen asked him at last. 

“No.” Alex answered almost immediately. MI6’s involvement in his life hadn’t produced a single good result. “But I don’t think they’ll ever leave me alone.” 

“It’s doubtful.” Yassen agreed. “They might - for a while. But once they find something, and you’re available - what it will do to your life is no matter to them.” 

“I was afraid you’d say that.” Alex sighed. “I thought they had, this time. It had been 4 months since I’d heard from them. 4 months and I was in school every day. I had soccer, I was going to be in a play - don’t laugh.” Alex said, almost defensively. Yassen shook his head. 

“If anyone can act, it’s you.” Yassen smiled briefly. “What changed?” 

“A sniper shot my best friend.” Alex said bitterly. “They were aiming for me, I think, but when they missed, they went for him.” 

“A sniper?” Yassen sat forward, serious. “Did MI6 find this sniper?” 

“I - “ Alex paused. “No. I got the tail number from the helicopter, though. A5455H.” He added.”I don’t know how much good it’ll do. I hit it with a fire extinguisher and a TV antenna and MI6 said the two escaped the river...” 

“A TV antenna?” Yassen raised an eyebrow. 

“Slingshot.” Alex explained. Yassen nodded. 

“I’m going to look into the helicopter. MI6 might not be able to find them, but I have contacts they won’t.” 

“MI6 said they were Scorpia.” Alex finished. “That’s why they sent me and Jack to Cario - it was supposed to be a safety measure. And they wanted me to listen in on the headmaster.” 

“They sent you after Scorpia after presumably Scorpia had sent a sniper after you.” Yassen said quietly. His face gave nothing away - Alex wondered if that was his version of emotional. Probably. It matched with Air Force One. “I’ll be looking into that.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time they’d done it.” Alex wasn’t exactly sure why he was telling Yassen all of this but he was too tired of everything to really care anymore. “After I took your...unintentally mistaken advice, I ended up getting shot outside of MI6.” 

“You went to Scorpia, and then betrayed them?” Yassen’s eyebrows raised. “That is extremely impressive that you’re still alive.” 

“The doctors said it was luck and age.” Alex shrugged. “Apparently, when you’re younger, your heart can close off arteries to protect the rest of it or something of the sort.” 

“Luck indeed.” Yassen murmured. “Who was in charge at the time?”

“Julia Rothman.” Alex glanced over at Yassen. “She mentioned you - said you were the best there. Apparently Nile was second only due to his fear of heights.” 

“She was rather fond of using that particular insecurity of his.” Yassen agreed, sounding...annoyed, almost. “It wasn’t helpful when training him. He did better when it wasn’t a concern in the back of his mind.” 

“Were you there when he was at Malagosto?” Alex asked curiously. 

“Briefly.” Yassen answered. “He was extremely skilled with a sword even then.” 

“It was a talent of his.” Alex agreed. It was a kind of relief to talk about the island so freely, if he were being honest with himself. Despite it’s purpose, it really had been an exceptional school and Alex had somewhat felt equal amongst the people there. 

“You asked for options.” Yassen sat back. “You could go to America and school and hope that MI6 never contacts you again.”

“Or the CIA.” Alex muttered. Yassen inclined his head in acknowledgement. 

“You could go into freelancing.” Yassen continued. “You could move to another country entirely and finish schooling there.” 

“I could drop out.” Alex suggested half heartedly but he knew it wouldn’t work, and he didn’t really want to give up on any chance of a future entirely yet. 

“They would most likely just re-enroll you.” Yassen pointed out. 

“What would you do if you were me?” Alex asked. He had no idea how similar the two were, and might have hesitated if he had. 

“At your age?” Yassen raised an eyebrow. “At the age of 18 is when I joined Scorpia and met your father. Before that, I was unfortunately in a less than desirable situation I couldn’t escape from yet.” 

“So, you wouldn’t recommend whatever it was you were doing then.” Alex said lightly. 

“If I were in your position?” Yassen leaned back in the chair again and thought. “I might have gone after MI6 publicly.” 

“Avoiding publicity was how MI6 got me to do something else.” Alex sighed. Yassen stared at him for a second and muttered something in what sounded like Russian (Alex really needed to learn Russian). 

“Well, my next choice would have been to go after MI6 in other ways.” Yassen offered. 

“Go after?” 

“Potentially kill whoever was responsible.” Yassen stated. 

“I almost did kill Jones.” Alex informed him. “Didn’t, at the last second.” Yassen stared at him again. “What?” 

“You and I were very alike when I was younger.” Yassen said, which really didn’t explain much at all to Alex. “I assume you don’t want to do that now.”

“Honestly, it seems like it’s too much effort.” Alex sighed. “Or worth it.” Yassen examined him and nodded briefly. Alex glanced out the window and was surprised to see it was getting dark. “It’s getting late. You can stay, if you want. There’s a guest bedroom just down the hall upstairs - third door on the left.” 

“I think I will take you up on that offer.” Yassen said after a moment. “Where I’m staying is somewhat far to drive - I hadn’t intended on being so late. We can discuss this further in the morning if you’d like.” Alex nodded in agreement - he would like to. 

Where I’m staying - Did Yassen ever settle anywhere, Alex wondered, as the two went to bed? He didn’t ask. It felt a little too personal for now. 

Yassen waited until he was sure Alex was asleep and walked out of the house normally. His suspicion that creeping would have woken Alex up proved true - the two of them really were quite similar. 

Yassen walked the few blocks to his car and started it up, heading in the direction of MI6 and some local contacts. He was confident that he wouldn’t be recognized - he’d checked their databases and his location was currently supposedly somewhere in South America, and the hair coloring, the contacts and the slight shift in his gait would throw off any cameras looking at him. 

Yassen approached the area where people usually gathered to share information and settled into wait. It would be a few hours. 

Alexi watched the newcomer with no little amount of suspicion. He didn’t recognize the other man but clearly whomever he was, he knew of this place and was looking for something. The man shifted, and suddenly Alexi knew instinctively he’d been spotted. 

Alexi calmly walked to the other man from his watching spot and sat across from him at the small table, making sure he wasn’t coming off as a threat. Anyone within a 10 mile radius could see that the man in front of him radiated danger. 

“I need information on a helicopter crash about a month or so ago.” The stranger said. He had no accent to his voice and upon closer inspection, Alexi couldn’t have told you where he was from. “Tail number A5455H.” 

“Tail number A5455H.” Alexi repeated, feeling the blood drain from his face. Everyone knew that helicopter - it was one of the very few that was absolutely certain to belong to Intelligence Services. “What do you want to know?” 

“Who did it belong to?” The stranger asked. 

“You don’t know?” Alexi said in surprise. “Everyone around here knows who that helicopter belongs to.” 

“I do not.” The stranger answered politely. 

“It’s Intelligence Services.” Alexi answered. “It was one of the only ones that was definitely theirs. Ever since it went down things have been a bit antsier. I’d ask if you’re intelligence, but we had those types poking around already a few weeks ago, and you don’t look the type either.” 

“I’m not Intelligence.” The man confirmed, an expression that might have been a smirk briefly shifting across his face before fading once more. “It wasn’t Scorpia’s? You are sure?” 

“Scorpia? Hell no.” Alexi shook his head. “Scorpia’s not what it used to be, but even they wouldn’t have done so badly at that. Supposedly it got brought down by a fire extinguisher.” 

“So I’ve heard.” The stranger nodded and slid a bundle of cash across the table. It was a lot of money. “Thank you for your time.” 

Alexi nodded and watched the man slip out of the small courtyard and vanish like a shadow. He had a niggling feeling the two had met before. It didn’t matter, Alexi had a shipment to deal with. 

Yassen’s face was impassive as he drove back to Alex’s house and let himself back in (he had slipped a key into his pocket as he left). MI6 had sent the sniper - Yassen was sure of it. It explained why Razim hadn’t mentioned it or why Scorpia had been strangely silent on that part of the affair. 

Maybe even Scorpia had been surprised by how far Alan Blunt (on his way out of MI6) was willing to go - and how much Jones was willing to let happen. 

Either way, he would inform Alex in the morning. The teen needed sleep, and so did Yassen. 

“Options.” Alex let the spoon fall into the bowl with a soft  _ clink _ . A lone piece of cereal stared up at him and Alex ignored the almost mournful expression he imagined on it. A second later, he bit into it viciously.  _ There. Now you’ve joined the rest of your friends in being digested. How do you like that _ ? 

He realized how ridiculous he was being and set the spoon down again with a much harsher  _ clink _ in the bowl. Across from him, Yassen watched with a hint of amusement and something else lying underneath. 

“Options?” Alex repeated, desperate for a distraction from his own treacherous thoughts.

“You could also stay here.” Yassen picked up from the night before. “That again would depend on MI6 being truthful.” 

“Yeah.” Alex sighed. “Run, run, or wait.” 

“I found out who hired the sniper.” Yassen continued quietly. Alex’s spoon fell with a clatter to the counter, but it went unnoticed as Alex stared at Yassen. “It wasn’t Scorpia.” 

“But that means -” Alex broke off. It meant Blunt was played. It meant Blunt had at the very least lied about the source of the attack and used it as a bargaining chip. It meant Blunt had threatened Alex - and his friends - just to get his way, again. 

And all of it for a trap that they fell into hook, line and sinker. 

Anger began to burn in the pit of his stomach. Jack was dead - not just because of Scorpia - but because Blunt had stuck his nose into business where he wasn’t needed, again. How many times had Alex almost died because the man refused to leave him be? And now Jack was dead because of Alan Blunt and Mrs. Jones. 

“Who was it?” Alex clenched his fists in his lap. 

“According to local sources, the helicopter belonged to Intelligence Services.” Yassen answered quietly, almost hesitantly. Alex didn’t blame him.

“MI6?” Alex asked. “Is that what Intelligence Services means?” 

“It’s the only one that would make sense, yes.” Yassen confirmed. 

“You mentioned freelancing.” Alex finally said again. He thought that everything couldn’t get worse - and it had. The universe was laughing at him, he would guess. 

“I would advise against it.” Yassen said softly. “I speak from experience when I say that revenge is not a good advisor for making choices.” 

“You did it.” Alex crossed his arms stubbornly. 

“I did, and while I most likely would not be here now to tell you this had I not, I suspect you might not be in this situation either.” Yassen warned. “You still have a chance to free yourself from MI6 and this world.” 

“But you’re not to blame for all of this either.” Alex pointed out. “I mean, killing Ian - yeah, that was a part of it. But you never made the choice to send me - MI6 did. MI6 forced me back again and again.” 

“You don’t have to play by their rules, Alex.” Yassen finally said. “You don’t have to work for them, or anyone.” 

“Run, run, or wait.” Alex repeated. “At least this way, I can have some control over the running. And someone I trust.” Alex met Yassen’s eyes hopefully. The other man seemed to give in to something. 

“Yes, you do.” Yassen agreed quietly.

The ride to the station was quiet. Alex was watching London go by out the window. Yassen couldn’t read the teenager, which was somewhat worrisome. 

Yassen needed to figure out a plan to avoid Alex taking the same path he had at 18 - and soon. It would potentially destroy any trust Alex had in him to go over his head - and Yassen wasn’t sure if it was worth it yet. But Alex was on the fast track to being entirely cut off from any other options and Yassen couldn’t sit by and let that happen. 

They arrived at the station and Alex unpacked his luggage from the trunk (one bag - he took his papers, his money, clothes, and whatever he felt like taking that had memories of Jack. Yassen had offered a second bag but it hadn’t been needed). Yassen did likewise and they waited for the train to arrive.   
The email to the Pleasures had already been sent. Alex hadn’t bothered telling MI6, since MI6 would figure it out eventually anyways. He’d left a note that did state he left of his own free will and accord to try and prevent a manhunt (it wasn’t likely, but it was worth attempting). Alex was leaving London, and going with Yassen to his retirement home in Moscow. 

“I don’t speak any Russian.” Alex mentioned a few minutes into the train ride. “I learned German, French, Spanish, a little Japanese and Italian, but not Russian. I wonder if that was intentional.” 

“Perhaps.” Yassen allowed. “John most likely would have taught you I think. I’m not sure why Ian didn’t - as an agent, he wasn’t known for letting emotions get the better of rationality.” 

“Did you know a lot about them?” Alex asked curiously. “Ian and John, I mean.” 

“Ian, no. I only knew what was provided about the Stormbreaker assignment.” Yassen answered, privately grateful he hadn’t. “I mentioned John was my mentor - his codename was Hunter.” 

“What was yours?” Alex asked curiously. 

“Cossack.” Yassen answered. Alex felt like he’d heard it before but he couldn’t recall where, so he brushed it off for the moment. “It’s the name of Russian warriors.” 

“Hunter and Cossack.” Alex murmured. The names fit what Alex knew of both of them. “What was my dad like? When you knew him?” 

“Intense.” Yassen answered immediately, thinking back to the time just before Paris. “He was very focused and very capable. Now, I realize, some of those were not in actuality true successes - but he was very truly very skilled, especially to do what he did for so long. In that manner, I have no idea how he would have been discovered - chance, perhaps.” 

“Ash.” Alex answered quietly, glancing at Yassen. “He told me. He put the bomb on the plane. He was working for Scorpia.” 

“If he weren’t dead already, I might have found him and killed him myself.” Yassen said after a moment. He glanced over at Alex and was somewhat surprised to see Alex’s neutrality to the statement. “I can teach you Russian, if you’d like.” He offered.

“I’d like that.” Alex said with a quick smile. “When do we start?” 

“Now.” Yassen decided. “What to start with...ah, this might be useful. Не поги́бните меня.” 

“Nye pogibnitye menya…” Alex repeated. “Не погитбните меня. What’s that mean?”   
“Don’t kill me.” Yassen gave him an amused look and Alex rolled his eyes good-naturedly. 

“Nye pogibnitye menya.” Alex repeated again, memorizing it. “How do I say my name is Alex?” 

“Меня зовут Алекс.” Yassen paused. “Or you could use the Russian diminutive.” 

“What’s that?” 

“Cаша.” Yassen smiled. 

“Sasha.” Alex repeated. “That’s not a half bad cover name.” 

Yassen made a note to have that name put on Alex’s eventual passport. It would be easy to remember and Alex liked it. 

He almost felt like he was 18 again, going to Paris, walking along the river in the chill. He was determined to do better for Alex - he didn’t fault Hunter for what he did - being on the other side of that situation certainly changed his feelings. 

And he was in Hunter’s situation, there was no doubt. The question lay in whether or not he wanted to bring Alex fully into their world. John hadn’t wanted him in it, and if he was being honest with himself, Yassen didn’t either. Yassen had a chance to prevent a repeat of history - but forcing that would take away Alex’s choice and freedom in the matter. That was equally, if not more important to Yassen - Alex had had that taken away since MI6 had first darkened his doorstep - maybe since he had been born. Yassen was loathe to do that to him as well.

A rock and hard place, yet again. 

“You Rider’s never make it easy.” Yassen murmured to himself as the two walked the path to the plane awaiting them. Alex was a few steps ahead and the sound of the airport drowned out his almost soundless words. 

Could he live up to Hunter’s expectations and hopes? Yassen wanted to try. 

Alex and Yassen didn’t talk much on the plane trip. Alex dozed off about halfway through and woke up again just as they were landing at the Moscow airport. He followed Yassen off the plane and to the luggage carriage silently. Thankfully, they didn’t run into anyone and Yassen hailed a taxi in Russian that Alex couldn’t (yet) understand. 

Alex’s mind churned over the bits of knowledge that he’d learned from Yassen about his parents. He wasn’t sure if Yassen had meant for the admiration to come through when he’d spoken about John Rider - Hunter. Clearly, Yassen had admired the man and his skill. 

The countryside suddenly broke the cities bounds and the taxi slowed to a stop a few feet away from an older truck waiting besides the dirt path that had appeared. Yassen handed the man some bills and Alex followed him out of the taxi. Yassen waited until the taxi had disappeared from sight before turning to the truck. 

“This is your truck?” Alex asked, a little surprised. It seemed at odds with the man. 

“It is.” Yassen pulled out a key and unlocked the doors. “It’s useful for different terrains, and most wouldn’t expect it to belong to me.” Alex nodded in understanding. He’d been surprised, certainly!

“So do you live on a farm?” Alex asked as more and more trees and open land passed them by. They’d left the city a good way behind them. 

“I have a few horses, if you consider that a farm.” Yassen answered. The truck rattled it’s way down the road and Alex braced himself as a larger dip appeared, but Yassen skillfully sped around it. “It’s about 500 acres.”   
Alex whipped his head around to stare at Yassen in shock. 

“When you said “some land” I thought you meant maybe a  _ few  _ acres.” He exclaimed in surprise. “Not  _ five hundred of them _ .” 

“It was a nice lot.” Yassen shrugged. 

“Is it just trees and land?” Alex asked after he’d managed to wrap his head around it. “And a house?” 

“There’s a shooting range, a training course, amongst other things.” The truck hit another bump. “The land is trapped. I’ll show you where they are so you can avoid them.” 

“I’ll be sure to.” Alex agreed. “I don’t want to repeat Australia again.” Yassen glanced at him questioningly but didn’t press at the moment. A small break in the trees appeared to the right - another road - but Yassen drove across and down to a smaller break in the trees to the right. The road in front was on a slight bend. 

The tree surrounded the road until there was a clearing ahead - though it didn’t get lighter - and a house appeared, if it could be called a house. It wasn’t quite a mansion, but it was close. Upon further instruction, Alex could see that parts of it were clearly intended for uses other than living - there appeared to be a storage area and a barn at least. A horse hung it’s head out the window as the truck approached, and Alex could hear the horse  _ neigh _ faintly. 

It actually fit Yassen, who was pulling into a garage door that was opening at the press of a button just above the mirror. Alex was impressed by the subtly. Clearly, Yassen’s house had more to it than could be seen. 

That description would also fit the man himself, and Alex wondered if he was slowly seeing more and more of the man John Rider knew. He wouldn’t have guessed the man would live in a place like this, yet somehow it made total sense at the same time. 

Alex climbed down from the truck and followed Yassen into the house, where a modest living room was just inside. To his left, there was a kitchen. 

“Your bedroom will be just down that hallway.” Yassen pointed to a smaller hallway to a door towards the end. “My bedroom is the first on the left. The hall between leads to the toolshed and a gate to the barn for the horses. We should get your things brought inside.” 

Alex held up the bag and took another glance around at the room before he went into his. There was a stairwell at the far end and another room (from the brief glimpse of the door, an office. Alex ignored the curiosity of what was inside). 

His bedroom here was slightly bigger than his bedroom in Chelsea. The bed was against the far wall, in a corner and looked like it hadn’t ever been slept in. Alex wouldn’t be surprised if that were the truth - Yassen didn’t seem like the type to have guests over often, especially if this was his retirement home. 

It didn’t take much time to unpack and sort his clothing and other things (he carefully placed the picture of Jack on the table next to the bed) and he emerged from the bedroom a short time later. 

Yassen was sitting in one of the couches looking through what appeared to be a Japanese workbook, but looked up and closed it at Alex’s entrance. Alex, somewhat unsure what to do now, hovered in the doorway. 

“Are you hungry?” Yassen asked, standing up and setting the book on the table. He didn’t wait for an answer and went into the kitchen, reappearing with what looked like chicken. “If you need to heat it, there’s a microwave and a stove.” 

“Thanks.” Alex said, taking the offered drumstick and putting it onto the plate Yassen offered. He found the microwave and heated it briefly before eating it. It was probably due to how hungry he was, but the chicken tasted like the most delicious thing he’d had in a while. He’d forgotten he hadn’t eaten since they’d left London, but thankfully the hunger was subsiding now. “Do you go to a store or do you hunt?” 

“Both.” Yassen answered. “Sometimes deer wander through and I’ll skin and cook them. The chicken came from the store.” Alex nodded instead of responding verbally, mouth currently full. “Tomorrow we’ll start with some of the things I mentioned. Fighting?” 

“I’m going to get my ass kicked.” Alex sighed. 

Alex did indeed get his ass kicked.

But he also learned and by the end of their first lesson, had managed to briefly get a hold of Yassen. Yassen got out of it, of course, but it was progress and Alex was somewhat proud of himself. Yassen was too, but clearly took it as an incentive to push Alex harder the next day and the next. Alex slowly grew more comfortable with a rifle and handguns of various types at the same time, and one night Yassen instructed him to pack a rifle and to meet him in the garage. 

“You’re doing well.” Yassen said as he slid into the truck and started it. Alex joined him and Yassen pulled down one of the paths Alex had learned to spot the subtle tracks on in the past few months. “I mentioned a shooting range. The one you have been practicing at is not the one I meant.”

Yassen pulled to a stop in front of another small clearing that had the same traits as the rest of them - they were all carefully cultivated so that natural branches covered the empty space as much as possible, and artificial covered what that couldn’t. Alex had been impressed when he’d examined them one afternoon during their terrain and navigation lessons. 

There were three boulders neatly aligned and Alex almost could have been convinced they were just boulders if he didn’t know better (and hadn’t spent the past few months training with Yassen). Upon closer inspection, parts of each had carefully been worn down to hold a tripod with a rifle (or just the rifle). It could have been weathering from the way it was done. 

The rifles and boulders served as a stark reminder of exactly why Alex was here. He was here because he was preparing to take on Blunt - and Jones - and potentially the whole of MI6 if he wasn’t careful. 

The two set up with their usual care, Yassen far more natural at it than Alex still. Alex doubted he’d get anywhere near that anytime soon. Yassen handed him the ammunition wordlessly and the two settled in for a few hours of shooting. 

Yassen was impressed by the speed at which Alex picked up the skills being taught. His Russian was almost at a fluent passing level, and given another month or so of the pace they were taking, he would be. Alex also clearly remembered his lessons from Malagosto, as evidenced by the slowly but surely improving accuracy (which had not been terrible to begin with). 

But Alex also grew closer and closer to the time where he would inevitably take one of two paths, and Yassen still hadn't figured out exactly what the best option was. He made the decision early on to teach Alex without reservation - however it turned out, Yassen would not be the reason Alex didn’t survive due to not teaching him properly. 

What would Hunter have wanted for his son? Yassen knew the answer to that immediately - not to be involved at all. That was out as an option, so what was next best? 

He would want Alex to be prepared, for one thing. Yassen was meeting that goal, at least.

He would also have wanted Alex to understand the full consequences and weight of whatever he did, as he had with Yassen.

And therein laid Yassen’s problem. 

He knew the teen had been researching - planning. He’d made no secret of it from Yassen and his research made it fairly clear he was planning on going after Blunt specifically. Yassen was fairly sure Alex himself wasn’t sure if he was just going to go after Blunt politically or if he was planning on something more drastic and permanent. If it was the latter, Alex would forever be running. 

Had he prepared for  _ that _ ? Yassen needed to find out. He set aside his Japanese book and headed to Alex’s bedroom. 

He ignored the tiny voice that suggested this was just another attempt to convince Alex to let Yassen go after Blunt alone, and spare him that suffering. It wasn’t, he told the voice firmly. Alex deserved the choice. 

_ Three months later:  _

Alex and Yassen lay side by side on the top of a hill near Blunt’s house. Finding it had been considerably resource intensive, and not for the last time, Yassen had wished he’d still had the resources of Scorpia backing him. In the end, however, they had uncovered the location Blunt resided and planned their attack. 

Blunt relied on obscurity - on his ability to blend in, on not seeming important enough to attack to conceal him. He was the head of a Bank and security that was above that cast suspicion on his cover. it was a well-secured house, but it wasn’t as secure as the head of MI6’s house could have been. 

Yassen and Alex would take advantage of that. 

They would take out the car as it was leaving. The few guards Blunt allowed were to be removed from the equation, and Blunt would be rendered unconscious for the journey. Alex had originally planned to question him first before anything else, but Yassen had ended up being the one in charge of that in the end. 

“He will not recognize my voice as easily.” Yassen had explained before Alex could protest. “And by some slim chance, if he is not the one behind it, you will not be implicated as well.” Alex had found it hard to argue with that, and so he allowed Yassen to be the one to question Blunt. 

The garage opened, and next to Yassen, he could feel Alex tense minutely. The car pulled forward, onto the road and Yassen didn’t move from his calm stillness. 

“ _ 3...2...fire.”  _ Yassen’s voice was just above a whisper, and the sound of two rifles firing split the air. The car came to an abrupt halt. Yassen and Alex didn’t move. The door opened, and Alex and Yassen waited patiently for the guard to stick his head out. 

He went down a moment later and didn’t move again. Yassen shifted his sight to the other door. Next to him, Alex focused on the empty open doorway - Blunt would either get out or stay inside. Either way, one of them would be there to deal with him. 

The second guard moved outside the car just enough to provide an opportunity for Yassen to take him out as well. All that was left was Blunt (Alex had taken the engine block, Yassen had taken the driver). 

Next to Yassen, Alex quickly packed his things. If Blunt emerged now, Yassen would shoot the tranquilizer round he had just finished loading. If Alex got to the car first, Alex would incapacitate Blunt. 

Alex reached the car before Blunt emerged, and Yassen packed his things quickly and made his way to the car. Blunt was just emerging from the car when Yassen arrived, and he spotted Yasssen before he collapsed with a soft exhale. 

Behind him, Alex straightened up and tucked away the rest of the tranquilizers. The two silently carried Blunt to their car and secured him in the backseat. For good measure, he was gagged and blindfolded, and the tracker that had doubtlessly been activated was discarded outside the car. 

Knowing precious minutes were ticking away, Yassen and Alex quickly finished their preparations and buckled into the car themselves. Less than five minutes later, the only evidence of the attack was the car, the guards and the bullet in the engine block. 

By the time anyone arrived, Yassen, Alex and Blunt would have long disappeared with their cargo. 

Alan Blunt was not a man used to being at the disadvantage. He was absolutely out of his depths now, though, and he knew it the minute he awoke to see icy blue eyes staring at him. 

Gregorovich, then. He knew it had been a mistake to leave him alive. 

Blunt glanced around the room to get some idea of where he was, but the room was bland. The only feature of interest was the observation window next door. He wondered if anyone was standing behind it - probably. He would have had someone there. 

“Alan Blunt.” Gregorovich said softly. “Head of MI6. I will keep this meeting short.” Blunt didn’t react to that. He knew Gregorovich was looking for any sort of a reaction. “I have one question for you. Did you send an agent - a sniper - to go after Alex Rider in his school? I don’t care the reason why, it will be a yes or a no.” 

Blunt was trapped. If he answered no, Gregorovich would know he was lying. If he answered yes, he very well may not find himself alive in the next few seconds. 

Alex was probably here, then, if this was the topic. Possibly in the room next door. 

“Is Alex here?” Blunt answered instead. Yassen didn’t react, but somehow Blunt knew the double answer had been understood. 

The door behind Gregorovich opened a moment later, and Alex stared at Blunt with cold fury in his eyes. 

A heavy feeling settled in Blunt’s gut as he realized he had just signed his own death certificate. 

Yassen watched Alex as he walked forward into the room and felt the weight of his decisions rest. He had straddled a thin, thin, line of choice and protection. While he had never stopped Alex aside from practical lessons, he had ensured that he’d been the one to take more of the weighted decisions - 

Like the car. Alex would only have the engine block to his name. Yassen was relieved he’d spared him that at least. 

(At some point, Yassen knew, Alex would have to take that step if he planned to continue in this world. Alex still hadn’t made that decision, and Yassen intended to wait as long as he could to rest that weight in his hand.) 

Alex stood an inch away from Blunt, stared down at the man who’d set in motion - at least partially - the events that had led to Alex losing everything. Blunt and Yassen knew that everyone else involved with it was already dead - Alex had been the mechanism behind that as well. 

“Was it worth it?” Alex asked quietly, voice calm of the kind that came from detachment. 

Blunt didn’t answer for a long moment. He was clearly judging his response. 

“Yes.” He finally answered. Yassen raised his eyebrows in spite of himself.

He thought he’d never meet anyone more ruthless than Rothman, or Three. Three would have been delighted to find a companion in Blunt of how far the man was willing to go. 

Alex nodded, like he hadn’t expected anything less. But instead of drawing the handgun nestled at his side, he spoke. 

“If I even hear you are involved with MI6, the CIA, anything ever again, I will cut you down where you stand,” Alex said just as quietly as Blunt had. His eyes were flint. “You get to live with the knowledge of what you created.” 

Yassen didn’t move from his position next to Alex. It was up to Alex now and whatever Alex decided would be what Yassen did. 

“Yassen, let’s go. If you even think about warning Jones, Blunt, you’ll find yourself dead before you can dial her number.” Alex turned and walked out without a glance at Blunt. 

Yassen gave the man a thin, humorless smile before following Alex out. 

Jones hadn’t known, but it wasn’t much comfort to Alex. She had been forced to resign anyway, after documentation had been leaked that could potentially be...embarrassing for MI6 if it got to the public. 

Alex watched her through the scope of a rifle, Yassen yet again beside him. That knowledge enough - those consequences - hadn’t been enough after he’d learned of Nightshade, and after he’d learned of her intent. She might have seemed apologetic, but she had planned on using him once more at some point. 

Alex was tired of people just using him. 

Yassen, beside him, was still.

The only person who hadn’t used him - or tried to choose anything for him at this point - was Yassen. And Jack, but she was dead. Alex also hadn’t been ignorant to Yassen’s concern - the man hadn’t held back in teaching Alex, but Alex wasn’t oblivious to the decisions that had been made. Yassen had taken the shots at the guard, not Alex. Yassen would take the shot at Jones, not Alex (but Alex suspected that was less protection and more practicality. Yassen wouldn’t miss.). Blunt had fallen to Yassen’s hand as well just earlier this week. 

Alex had no intent to go back to MI6, or to go back to a normal life. Blunt and Jones had taken that way from him the moment Blunt had sent out the helicopter and the sniper. 

Jones exited the building to take the short walk to the car. There was a tiny shift next to Alex, and Jones fell soundlessly. 

The two were gone moments later when MI6’s guards made their way to the spot. There was no evidence left behind. 

_ A month later _ ….

A pair of snipers were resting on a hill about a mile away from a small compound in the middle of nowhere. There was utter silence in the air, and both rifles were loaded with deadly projectiles. 

Movement below in the compound was the only change noticeable. The man walked the short distance to the car waiting, but was cut down before he could reach it. The person following met the same fate, and the person after that.

After the last target had been eliminated, the snipers stood and made their way down the hill. The building was not one of the compounds the operatives for Nightshade were housed at but a central location nonetheless. 

The two made quick work of the information inside, and made their way to a safe distance away before the shorter of the two pressed a button on a box. The building went up in a pillar of smoke and flames. 

Alex turned to Yassen with a grimly satisfied smile. 

“Let’s go.” he said. 

**Author's Note:**

> I started rereading Devil at the "Alex got his ass kicked." Scene. That is shamelessly based off of Devil's approach. The truck, however, was not influenced by Devil. I picked a truck before I started rereading Devil. Whoops!
> 
> Mental!Yassen and Mental!Alex would *not shut up* at certain parts. Yassen was incredibly tempted at some point to say "fuck it" to the trust issues that just....going after Blunt and Jones himself and taking that choice away from Alex would cause. Alex is a stubborn little shit that insisted he was fine and didn't want to listen to Yassen for a good bit. It was a pain in the ass. I don't fucking know how characters fight you in your own head but Alex and Yassen were both stubborn pains in the ass. 
> 
> I had intended on the reveal for Jack, but I never got around to it. Maybe if I ever write a continuation of this? But right now this is where this'll end.


End file.
